


Ad Meliora

by Rochelle_Templer



Category: Father Brown (2013)
Genre: Gen, Lots of family and friendship moments, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-01 10:47:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11484771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rochelle_Templer/pseuds/Rochelle_Templer
Summary: At the beginning of WW II, Sidney Carter left London and ended up spending the rest of his childhood and teen years in Kembleford. This series of short fics will take place during that time.





	1. The Promise, part one

As Arthur Burton stepped off the train, he was greeted by a cold, grey day in Kembleford.

Not that he really minded the weather. It had taken a tremendous amount of effort to get to this sleepy village in the countryside. There could have been thundershowers and he still would have smiled upon seeing it after all the traveling he had just done. Here, if only for a few moments, Burton could almost forget that there was a war going on. However, places like Kembleford also reminded Burton of what they were fighting this war for.

And it reminded him of the reason why he had gone to such lengths to get to this place….a reason that was silently following him off of the train.

Burton turned around and watched as a small boy ambled onto the platform. The boy had wavy brown hair, bright green eyes and was wearing a jacket that was a size too big and clothes that were starting to become threadbare. Far more concerning to Burton were the bandage on the boy’s temple and the hand that was wrapped up. Evidence of the traumas that the boy had recently experienced.

The boy said nothing as he walked over to where Burton was standing. Then again, he hadn’t said much since Burton had found him partially buried under the rubble of what had been the boy’s house. After he found out about what had happened to his parents, the boy had pretty much stopped talking and would only speak to respond to what other people said to him. And even then, he only gave one or two word responses.

Burton held out a hand to the boy. His other one was currently holding a small, battered suitcase that contained some clothes and a couple of other necessities he had been able to scrounge up for the boy. He took the child’s hand and led him along gravel streets as they headed for a church in the village. Soon, the steeple of the church he’d been searching for appeared in Burton’s line of vision, his expression growing grim.

 They were going to see an old friend of Burton’s. A friend he had not seen in years although they had written to each other regularly. It wasn’t the prospect of seeing him that had stirred up so much apprehension in Burton’s mind. His friend was easily one of the kindest, most compassionate men he had ever met. 

However, he knew that he was taking a risk coming here and that was what was making him nervous. There was a chance that his friend could turn down his request. Or that he’d be chastised for not doing what he should have done with the boy right away. Still, Burton hoped that everything he remembered and admired about him was still true.

And that that would be enough to fulfill a promise he made to a woman whose hand he had held while she died a couple of days ago.

* * *

 

A few minutes later, Burton knocked on the door of a presbytery next to the church. The door opened to reveal a priest who wore his usual black cassock and a pleasant smile on his face. The priest had bright, but greying red hair and blue eyes which had glasses sitting in front of him.

“Arthur!” the priest said, holding out his hand. “After all these years…it’s so good to see you. I didn’t know you were coming. I would have made lunch….”

“It’s great to see you too, J—Father,” Burton said shaking his hand. “It’s been far too long. And I’m sorry to arrive announced like this, but….”

“Not at all,” the priest said with a wave of his hand. “Come in.” Then he spotted the child beside Burton. “Hello there. And who is this?”

“This....” Burton said, guiding the boy to stand next to him. “This is the reason why I’ve come here.”

* * *

 

A few minutes later, the boy was sitting at the table, slowly eating a sandwich and some biscuits at the kitchen table while Burton and the priest were sitting in the front room sipping tea.

“I’ve heard about what’s happening in London,” the priest said, his tone grave. “Terrible. So much suffering.”

“Yes,” Burton nodded. “Reminds me of what we saw together during the Great War. And the worst part is, it doesn’t seem to be over yet. Those blasted Germans seem determined to bomb us out of existence. If I could put on a uniform again, I’d be joining up with the first battalion I could find.”

“No, no you’ve already been injured twice in the service,” the priest said. “And the work you do now as an Inspector is vital to help our countrymen cope with this current crisis.”

“I hope so,” Burton sighed. “At any rate, I will be heading back to London in a couple of hours. I had to call in some favors just to be allowed to make this trip during a time like this.”

“Yes,” the priest said. “And you say it has to do with the boy you brought with you? Is he yours? Or perhaps a relative?”

“It’s more like I’m friend of the family,” Burton said. “You see, his parents were neighbors of mine when I first moved up to London and we’d been close ever since. Good, hard-working folks. Catholic, although, they had lapsed a little in recent years. The boy is their only child. I know he hardly looks it right now, but he can be a real tearaway at times. Independent and headstrong. But also clever. Clever and a fast learner.”

“Sounds like you’ve had a chance to get to know him,” the priest smiled.

“Sadly, some of that is due to running into him in an official capacity,” Burton said with a chuckle. “Nothing serious, mind you. But a couple of times a little more than the usual childhood mischief. Still….like you said, I have gotten to know him over the years and I know that he is a good boy at heart. He just needs some extra guidance is all.”

“And his parents?” the priest said. “Did they send him out here to keep him safe?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Burton sighed again. He leaned forward in his chair. “His parents are dead, Father. Killed when the bombs hit their neighborhood.”

The priest took off his glasses, his eyes filling with sadness while Burton continued his story.

“His father died as soon as it happened. We were able to dig the boy and his mother from the remains of their house. I tell you, it was a miracle that he only got a few bumps and scratches. His mother though…she died a day later. They had no other family that I know of.”

“I’m so sorry,” the priest said. ”And I take it, you were there when it all happened.”

“I was,” Burton nodded. “I was with his mother when she died. Father, she begged me with her dying breath to find a place for her boy. A place where he’d be taken care of and loved. I made a promise to her that I would.  I was able to give her that last bit of peace at least before she passed on.”

Burton collapsed back in his chair and sat his empty tea cup down. “I know I could have taken him to an orphanage. And maybe that’s what I should have done, but…Father, you know what would happen if I were to send him to one of those places. He’s nine years old. Hardly anyone would be willing to adopt him at that age. And the moment they found out that he already has priors….he’d been in that place until grew out of it. No question.”

The inspector clasped his hands together and took a deep breath before speaking again.

“Father….you know that I have never called upon our friendship to ask for a favor. And that normally, I wouldn’t dream of doing it in the first place. But this one time, I’m asking you…please let him stay here with you.”

“You asking me to keep him here?” the priest said, blinking in surprise. “At the presbytery?”

“I know. I know I’m asking a lot of you. And I promise that I’ll understand if you have to say no because of church rules or some other personal reason. But this boy…he deserves a chance, Father. The best possible chance. And I know he’ll have it if you are the one taking care of him.”

The priest nodded and leaned back in his chair. He remained still and silent for a few minutes before finally getting up and walking out of the room into the kitchen. Once he got there, he sat down next to the boy at the table.

“Hello. I see you’ve eaten your sandwich and biscuits,” he said. “I’m not surprised. My secretary, Mrs. McCarthy, is an excellent cook. I hope you enjoyed them.”

The boy nodded. “Thank you,” he mumbled, staring down at his empty plate. The priest scooted his chair closer to him.

“My name is Father Brown,” he continued, smiling at him. “And what is yours?”

“Sidney Carter,” the boy answered without looking up.

“I am very pleased to meet you, Sid,” Brown replied. “I imagine you’re tired from your long journey. Perhaps a nap would be in order.”

Sid shrugged and got up from his chair. Brown led him up the stairs and pulled back his bed for him to use. Sid pulled off his jacket and shoes before getting into the bed. Once he had laid down, Father Brown pulled the blanket over him before sitting down on the edge.

“Sid….Arthur…Mr. Burton told me what happened to your parents. I am very sorry for your loss.” Sid looked away, but Brown could see that the boy’s eyes were watering up. “If there is anything I can do…..”

“You can’t!” Sid snapped. “You can’t do anything, so…I…just...leave me alone.” He rolled over and buried his face into the pillow, his hands clenching the sides of it.

“All right,” Brown nodded. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.” He stood up and gently tucked the blankets around Sid’s shoulders.  Sid swallowed hard and lifted his face from the pillow. He looked up at Father Brown with watery eyes.

“Thank you, Father,” he choked out. Then he rolled over again so he could face the window.

“You’re welcome Sid,” Father Brown said quietly. “Sleep well.” He patted Sid’s back a couple of times before leaving the room and heading back downstairs. Burton was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs.

“Father, I….”

“It’s quite all right, Arthur,” Father Brown said. He paused until he reached the bottom step and was standing next to Burton.

“Sid will stay here. And I give you my word as a man of God that I will look after him.” 

 


	2. The Promise, part two

Later that afternoon, Father Brown sat in his office sipping at another cup of tea.

When his old friend Arthur arrived at his doorstep, he’d been pleasantly surprised. The two of them had been close friends ever since they have served together in Flanders during World War I. However, after he had gone off to the seminary to become a priest and Arthur had gone to the academy to become a policeman, they had mainly kept in touch through letters and the very occasional visit every few years. He considered Arthur to be one of the bravest and most honorable men he had known.

However, one thing that Arthur had never really been was a family man. He had married at one point, but there were no children and sadly, his wife passed away after only a little over ten years of marriage. After that, Arthur became even more dedicated to his work as a police inspector and kept his focus on that.

Thus, Father Brown had been a bit surprised that Arthur had taken such an interest in Sid even though he had said that he was friendly with Sid’s parents. Granted, if wasn’t as if Arthur disliked children or that he was unkind to them. Far from it. However, it wasn’t as if he went out of his way to spend time with them either. Father Brown figured that there must be something special about Sid that inspired Arthur to go to such lengths to bring him here. Something more than simply honoring his word to an old friend.

Brown finished his tea and sat the cup down before leaning back in his chair. The bombings in London were an atrocity that was sure to produce more tragedies like the one Sid had experienced. Many people would need God and the church’s help during this time and he already started to think about things the people in his parish could do.

Still, Father Brown found that he couldn’t help himself from also reflecting on his own decision to take care of Sid at Arthur’s request.

On the surface, he knew that it might appear to others like an odd decision on his part. While the church had put many resources into orphanages and hospitals and had called many clergy to take care of children, Brown had not felt led to this type of service in the past. He had been happy to be sent to his own parish in Kembleford even if others might have seen it as too humble to be anyone’s first choice of assignments. The years he had put into St. Mary’s had been fulfilling and he firmly believed that he was where God needed him to be.

However, despite his accomplishments in the community and the satisfaction he had with his work, Brown had recently felt as if there was something missing. Or that perhaps God was gently suggesting that he needed to be willing to be open to new responsibilities in order to best administer his pastoral care to those who truly needed it. He had prayed fervently for the wisdom to discern what these new responsibilities should be.

And he was certain that he had discovered what he was being led toward as soon as Arthur had made his request to take care of Sid.

Father Brown raised his head and sat up. It was going to be an adjustment to be sure. He’d have to make a home for Sid at the presbytery. Then there were considerations like education, legal custodial issues and helping him adjust to life in Kembleford. On top of all that, there were what were sure to be the even more difficult tasks of helping Sid to recover from his losses and grow into the good man that Arthur seemed confident that he could be.

The more he thought about it, the more that the full weight of his responsibilities started to become clear to him. This realization did not weaken his belief that he had made the right decision, but he knew that he would be continuing to pray for guidance for the foreseeable future.

In the meantime, he would need to come up with a way to explain all of this to Mrs. McCarthy. However, the sound of the front door opening indicated that he had just run out of time to do so.

“Ah Father, there you are,” Mrs. McCarthy said as she walked into his office with an armload of files. “Now, I’ve started on our annual financial reports. We’ll need to get those done by the end of the week or I’m certain we’ll be getting a call from the bishop’s office again. Which is the very last thing we need right now.”

“Yes, I’m certain that he has not forgotten about that incident with the duke,” Father Brown nodded. “Mrs. McCarthy….”

“And I’m making us chicken and mushroom pies tonight,” she continued. “It’s sure to be just thing we’ll need after we sort out the details of that…fundraising event her Ladyship is setting up for next Sunday. Although, I don’t know how many people would be interested in a ‘modern poetry reading’. More like modern rubbish if you ask me.”

“I’ve glanced through some of the poems that are going to be read,” Brown said. “They were…well, the authors were clearly enthusiastic about their work.  Anyway, Mrs. McCarthy I should tell you that….”

“And don’t forget, you have an appointment with the Mother Superior from the Gloucester orphanage,” she added. “They’re seeing an influx of children what with that dreadful war going on right now. Simply terrible.”

“Yes,” Father Brown said. “Speaking of children, Mrs. McCarthy, there is something you should know.”

“And what would that be?” Mrs. McCarthy replied.

The sound of feet shuffling in the hall caused both of them to turn toward the doorway. Mrs. McCarthy’s mouth opened to let out a small sound of surprise when she saw Sid standing there looking at both of them.

“Can I have something else to eat?” he mumbled.

* * *

 

Almost a half hour later, Father Brown was still in his office and was watching as his secretary pace back and forth in front of his desk. Only this time, Mrs. McCarthy was entirely focused on one topic of discussion.

“What on Earth were you thinking, bringing a child here to live with you? You have responsibilities.”

“My responsibility is to help all those in need,” Father Brown replied. “That is the first mission of the church.”

“Yes, but what do you know about taking care of a child?” Mrs. McCarthy said. “There’s far more to it than just providing a bed and a hot meal once in while. It’s a full time commitment. He should be in an orphanage. They have experience in handling children.”

“God the Father is a parent to us all. I shall look to Him for guidance.” Father Brown leaned forward in his chair. “Mrs McCarthy, Arthur brought this child to me because he was concerned about Sid’s wellbeing and trusted my judgment. And I happen to agree with his assessment of the situation.”

The Father rose from his chair and moved to stand next to Mrs. McCarthy in the doorway of his office.

“I’m certain that the orphanages the church has established do a fine job with many of the children who are entrusted in their care,” he continued. “However, I do not think that it’s in Sid’s best interests to be sent to one of them. From what Arthur told me about Sid’s background and circumstances, I think it would be best that he stay here where he can get more personalized care.”

Mrs. McCarthy shook her head. Her posture still showed her doubt and annoyance, but he recognized the look in her eyes as the one she would get when she was coming around to his viewpoint.

“I suppose he could use some extra attention right now,” she sighed. “Poor child. Losing both of his parents like that. He hardly even seems like a boy right now. Not a single smile or laugh. The way he just looks at you while hardly saying a word. He’s more like a ghost really.”

“He’s been through a lot,” Father Brown said quietly. “I imagine he’ll need time.”

“Yes,” Mrs. McCarthy said, sadness in her tone. She quickly regained her composure. “But in the meantime, there’s plenty that will need to be done. He should probably see a doctor to make sure those injuries are healing correctly. Then there is making sure to turn in the necessary forms so we can take custody of him. And he needs clothes. What he’s wearing now looks like it could fall apart in an instant. And where is he supposed to sleep while he is living here?”

“I plan on calling on the doctor tomorrow so he can check on Sid,” Father Brown replied. “Arthur left some legal paperwork that should help us with custodial issues. He also left some money so we could buy Sid some additional things.”

“I’ll handle that,” Mrs. McCarthy replied. “It’s not like you have much experience in buying clothes. Especially for a child.”

“I figured we could move Sid into the room adjoining mine,” Brown continued, passing over her comment. “There are only a few boxes in there now. We could put in a cot and maybe a dresser for him to put his things in.”

“I still say you’ve taken on more than you realize,” Mrs. McCarthy scolded. “But, we’ll do what we can and hope for the best. And, the good Lord willing, Sidney will benefit from it.”

Father Brown nodded. He was certain that Mrs. McCarthy had a point. She usually did even when he didn’t entirely agree with it. At the very least, her concerns were a good reminder of how diligent he would need to be in his care of Sid. And a sign that he could probably count on her assistance when needed.

“Father? Father are you here? Oh….”

Father Brown and Mrs. McCarthy went into the kitchen and found a woman with blond hair, wearing a smart, expensive-looking dress standing next to the table where Sid was sitting. Meanwhile Sid was looking up at her with an expression that Father Brown could only describe as fascinated.

“Are you a lady?” Sid asked, his voice barely audible. The woman looked astonished for a second until she caught onto his meaning and smiled at him.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” she said. “I’m Felicia, the Countess of Montague. And who are you?”

“Sidney Carter,” Sid mumbled. He looked back down at his nearly empty plate. “My mum was friends with a lady. Said she was real nice. Said you could see she was a lady just by looking at her. Like you.”

Felicia’s smile grew as Sid spoke, but it faltered a little when she watched him slump down in his chair. “It’s nice to meet you Sidney. I hope we can be friends too.”

Sid said nothing as he nodded his head and swung his legs back and forth under his chair. Father Brown tilted his head in surprise. This was the most that he had heard Sid speak since he arrived. He hoped that this was a positive sign of things to come.

“Lady Felicia,” he said. “Was there something you needed to see me about?”

“Oh, uh, yes, Father,” Felicia replied. She handed a paper over to him. “Here is a list of the people who have signed up to read at the poetry session. And I’ve arranged to have tea and hors d’oeuvres to be served to the guests.”

“Well, I’m sure that will help draw in quite a crowd,” Brown said, scanning the paper.

“Oh yes,” Mrs. McCarthy nodded. “Offer up free food and people will show up to all sorts of things.”

Lady Felicia gave the secretary a brief exasperated look before continuing. “Anyway, I wanted to let you know that we’ll be starting an hour later than we had originally planned. The author I invited indicated that there might be a slight delay in his arrival.”

“Thank you for letting us know,” Father Brown said. “We’ll put a notice on the bulletin board.”

“Yes, yet another change,” Mrs. McCarthy said. “It’ll be a wonder if anyone can keep up with them.”

 “Anyway, now that that is sorted, there shouldn’t be any more problems,” Lady Felicia continued, undeterred. “The reading will be held outside unless it rains and in that case, it will be moving into the town hall.”

“Very good,” Father Brown nodded. Felicia moved over closer to him.

“Father, that child,” she murmured to him. “Who….”

“Sid was brought here earlier this morning from London,” Father Brown responded. “He’ll be staying here from now on.”

“But what about his parents?” Felicia asked. Father Brown didn’t respond, but the look on his face was enough to give her an idea of what was going on. “Oh I see. Poor mite. If there is anything I can do….”

“That is very kind of you, thank you,” Father Brown said. “And I will let you know if something comes up.”

Felicia nodded and headed back for the door. She paused and turned toward Sid. “Goodbye, Sidney. I hope we can meet again soon.”

“Bye,” Sid said, looking up to watch her leave. Once she was gone, Sid went back to staring at the table top.

“Well now, if you are finished, you can help me take care of the kitchen,” Mrs. McCarthy said. “Clear off the table while I start the dishes.”

Sid didn’t move for almost a minute before finally getting up from his chair and taking his plate and cutlery over to her like she asked. Father Brown hadn’t been sure about getting Sid to do chores on his very first night there, but also figured that Mrs. McCarthy was probably right in making sure that Sid understood early on that he would have responsibilities while he was staying here.

“And once you’re done there, I’ll have something else for you to do,” she continued. 

Sid nodded and continued to move about in his slow, silent way around the kitchen. Father Brown decided to leave them to their tasks and attend to his own duties for a while.

* * *

 

By the time Mrs. McCarthy left, it was nighttime and Father Brown decided that it was probably a good time for Sid to go to bed. He chose to let Sid sleep in his bed again while he would make do on the couch that night. He also made a mental note to start getting Sid’s own room ready as soon as possible tomorrow.

After a few minutes of preparation, Sid finally settled into bed while Father Brown tucked him in again.

“Tomorrow is sure to be a busy day,” Brown told him. “So a good night’s sleep is most certainly in order.” He was just about to wish Sid a good night and leave to go downstairs when Sid suddenly sat up.

“Father.”

“What is it?”

“Are you….when are you sending me to an orphanage?” Sid asked. Father Brown sat down at the foot of the bed.

“Arthur and I decided that it would be best if you stayed here with me,” he said. “Unless….Sid, would you rather not stay here?”

“No,” Sid said. He lowered his gaze to his lap. “Why?”

“Why?” Father Brown tilted his head quizzically.

“Why are you doing this?” Sid answered. “Having me stay here if you’re not sending me to an orphanage? Is it because of Uncle Arthur?”

“No,” Father Brown answered. “Arthur made the request, but it was my decision to accept it. And I chose to have you stay here because I think that this where God meant for you to go. And because I would like to help you if I can.”

Sid laid back down and rolled over to his stomach again. Father Brown waited for a moment to see if he would say anything else before finally standing up and turning off the lamp near his bed.

“Good night, Sid,” he said. “And may God watch over you and keep you.”

Sid still did not reply as Father Brown slowly backed out of the room and descended to the front room. He had known when he made the decision to take Sid in that he was not facing an easy task.

But it wasn’t until this moment that the difficulties he faced had truly sunk in.

 


	3. The Promise, part three

Unfortunately, Father Brown’s concerns turned out to be prophetic.

At first, things went smoothly as he worked to make a home for Sid. Using the documents Arthur had left, Brown had been able to work out a custodial arrangement with the local authorities so Sid could live in the presbytery and so he would be responsible for him. A doctor confirmed that Sid was in good health and that his injuries were healing as they should with the bandages coming off a couple of days later.

Mrs. McCarthy had used the money Arthur gave them to buy additional clothes, shoes and toiletries for Sid and to get a gently used daybed and a dresser. She even managed to find a couple of men from the parish who were willing to help put the new furniture into the room next to Father Brown’s and arrange the boxes so that Sid would have plenty of room to play in there.

Meanwhile, Father Brown dipped into his own spending money to buy some books and toys that seemed appropriate for a child Sid’s age. He wasn’t able to get much, but he did hope that it was enough to keep Sid entertained during his free time.

Everything involved with getting Sid moved into the presbytery had gone well enough. The only problem seemed to be Sid himself.

It started out with small things. Sid not answering questions when asked or putting off doing a chore he’d been asked to do until he had been reminded more than once about it. Soon, these small things increased in number. Sometimes, Sid would disappear when he was supposed to be at school or the presbytery. He would sneak out at night or not come home until well after he was supposed to be in bed. 

Almost two weeks after Sid began living at the presbytery, Father Brown found himself contemplating these difficulties one afternoon in his office. So far, none of this was anything he couldn’t handle with a few firm words and perhaps an extra chore as a teaching moment. However, he had a feeling that things would continue to escalate until he got to the root of what was making Sid rebel.

Father Brown leaned back in his chair. He remembered Arthur’s words again and was certain that he had seen his own evidence that Sid was a good child at heart. Having spent a large portion of his lifetime dealing with people who had all sorts of moral character, Brown had developed an intuition for such things. It was just a matter of bringing this essential aspect of Sid’s nature to the forefront.

“Sidney! Sidney Carter, you get back here and finish cleaning the kitchen.”

The sound of a door slamming told Father Brown that Mrs. McCarthy had failed again to get Sid to mind her. It wasn’t long before she came into his office to inform him of that fact.

“I know he’s been through a rough time, Father, but that is no excuse for the way he has been acting,” she told him. “Just yesterday, I told him that he needed to clear the table after he was finished with his lunch. And do you know what he told me? He said that I couldn’t make him because I’m not his mother. And that he was glad that I wasn’t.”

“I don’t think he meant for it to offend you,” Father Brown said quietly. “I’m sure it was said out of hurt feelings. It can’t be easy for him to move on from whatever his home life used to be. Also, I’ve noticed that he is having problems sleeping.”

“Not surprising considering how he refuses to go to his room when he’s supposed to,” McCarthy replied.

“No, it goes beyond that,” Brown said, his brow furrowing. “There have been a couple of times at night when I have heard him from my room. I imagine bad memories might be haunting his nighttime hours. That can’t make it easy to be pleasant during the day.” Father Brown leaned forward in his chair and looked up at her with a grave expression.

“There is something else going on here,” he said. “I believe that there is something that Sid isn’t telling us. Some secret hardship that he refuses to share with us.”

“Perhaps,” McCarthy sighed. “But things can’t continue on this way. And you know it. Sidney is testing you, Father. And he’s not just testing your patience either. He is testing your authority.”

“You’re right,” Father Brown nodded.  “I promise that I shall try harder to address these problems and make my position clear to him.”

 “Father…are you sure about all this?” McCarthy said, her tone becoming gentler. “I know you want to help Sidney, but…well, there are no guarantees that things will get any easier, are there?”

 “I suppose not,” Brown replied. “Then again, God does not always lead us to the paths of least resistance. Sometimes, we need to persevere for greater causes.”

Mrs. McCarthy let out a long sigh and shook her head at him. Father Brown recognized the look on her face. She tended to get it when she was concerned that he was getting in over his head. Or when she was worried that he could get hurt. Sometimes it was combination of the two. Right now, he suspected that the last option was what he saw on her face.

“I think we can agree that Sid is worth the effort,” he told her with a smile. “And with God’s help, our efforts will bear fruit.”

Mrs. McCarthy gave a weak smile back and nodded. He was glad that Mrs. McCarthy agreed with him. He just hoped that the rewards for their efforts would come sooner rather than later.

* * *

 

That night, Father Brown had managed to get Sid to go to bed without much argument. Once he had changed into his own pajamas and robe, he went into Sid’s room, a book in his hands.

“What is it, Father?” Sid asked. Father Brown pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed.

“I noticed that you haven’t been sleeping very well,” Brown answered. “And I thought I could try something that might help.” He held up the book he had brought with him. “It’s called _Treasure Island_ by Robert Louis Stevenson. And it was a favorite of mine when I was a boy.”

“What? You want me to read a book until I fall asleep?” Sid asked.

“No, no,” Brown said. “I’m going to read it to you. Until you’re ready to go to sleep, of course.”

“Read it to me?” Sid echoed. “I’m not a little kid.”

“No, of course not,” Brown replied. “I just thought something relaxing before going to sleep might help you rest better. How about it? Shall we give it a try?”

Sid shrugged and laid down. “If you want, Father.”

Father Brown ignored the less than enthusiastic tone in Sid’s voice and opened the book to read.

_“’Squire Trelawney, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17__ and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn and the brown old seaman with the sabre cut first took up his lodging under our roof.’”_

Father Brown smiled as he read. It had been decades since he had spent time with this story and reading it aloud brought back many childhood memories. He glanced over to see that Sid was at least pretending to listen even if he wasn’t completely attentive. He continued to read until he noticed that Sid’s eyes seemed to be growing heavy.

“I think that is enough for tonight,” he said once he finished the second chapter. “We’ll continue tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“If you say so,” Sid yawned. He rolled over so he was facing the back of his daybed. Father Brown stood up and put the chair aside before making sure to tuck Sid in.

“Good night, Sid,” he said. He placed a hand on Sid’s shoulder and said a quick nighttime prayer before turning off the light and leaving the room.

* * *

 

Over the next three days, Father Brown made sure to keep a close eye on Sid.

He assigned Sid chores himself and would monitor him while Sid completed his work. Only after he was satisfied that Sid was finished would Brown allow him to go off to do his own activities. He walked Sid to school in the mornings and would show up when school was finished for the day to ask Sid about what he had learned. At night, he continued to read a chapter or two from _Treasure Island_ until Sid looked drowsy enough to sleep.

All of this was time consuming and some of it was a bit tedious, but it did seem to reduce the incidents of defiance and misbehaving even if it did not eliminate them altogether. However, it did have the unfortunate side effect of taking him away from his normal parish duties. Thus, Father Brown realized that he wouldn’t be able to be so watchful on a permanent basis. Plus, he imagined that Sid would eventually chafe under the constant supervision.

The moment Mrs. McCarthy had warned him about finally arrived on the fourth day of this when he walked Sid back to the presbytery after school and told him to finish his homework before he could go outside.

“I’ll do it later,” Sid said, starting toward the door.

“No, you will do it now and then you can go play,” Brown responded. Sid rolled his eyes and continued to walk toward the door.

“Sidney!” Brown said, his voice stern and slightly raised. “Sit down.”

Sid finally paused in his movements. He stared at Father Brown for a moment, as if contemplating what he should do. Then he slowly walked over and sat down at the kitchen table. Brown walked over and sat Sid’s books down in front of him.

“Sid, having responsibilities is part of daily life,” he continued. “And while you are here, you will have responsibilities to yourself and to this house. And I will expect you to carry out those responsibilities and to obey the rules I have set for you. Is that understood?”

Sid glared at him, but silently nodded. Father Brown backed away from the table and started to walk out of the room.

“I’ll leave you to your work,” he said. “When you are finished, you will bring it to me and I will look it over. Then, you will be excused.”

After that Father Brown walked toward his office. He could hear the sound of books being slammed onto the table, but he did not dwell on it. He expected Sid to be angry and decided that it was best to let that work itself out on its own. For now, he would get back to the normal work of the church that he had been neglecting.

The rest of the evening was a tense one. Sid did finish his homework and chores, but he also refused to speak to Father Brown for the rest of the day. When Brown came into his room to read to him like normal, Sid rolled over and pretended to already be asleep.

“All right, perhaps we should skip reading tonight and try again tomorrow,” Brown murmured.

He could feel Sid tense up when he tucked him in and said a prayer over him as usual. Still, Father Brown tried to not let this bother him. He had anticipated the possibility that Sid would resent his efforts to discipline him and focused on his original intent of taking care of Sid as best he could as opposed to being overly concerned if Sid liked him or not.

Although, he did still hold out hope that Sid would at least eventually learn to be happy again even if they were not meant to get along personally.

* * *

 

The next morning, Father Brown was able to work uninterrupted in his office and then meet with two different committees who were involved with fundraising for the church and various other charities connected to it.

Meanwhile, Sid had finished his chores early with the same sullen demeanor he had had yesterday. Brown was disappointed, but did not comment on it as Sid was still minding both him and Mrs. McCarthy. After that, Sid disappeared outside and Father Brown did not expect to see him before dinnertime.

“Here’s your mail, Father,” Mrs. McCarthy said, laying some letters onto his desk.

 Father Brown glanced at the envelopes and sorted through them until one in particular caught his eye. Curious, he opened that one first and scanned it. As he did, his face fell and he took off his glasses.

“Father? Father, what is it?” McCarthy said, concerned as his expression grew increasingly saddened. He finally looked up at her with slightly red eyes.

“It’s a letter from Arthur Burton’s sister,” he said quietly. “She received a notification from the police in London a few days ago….Arthur is dead.”

Mrs. McCarthy let out a gasp and sat down in a chair across from him. Father Brown took a short breath, trying to maintain his composure.

“There was a fire,” he continued. “One of the bombs had ignited a gas line and had destroyed several houses. Arthur was trying to help the firemen get some people out of one of the homes, but the fire got out of control. He… he wasn’t able to get out in time.”

“Oh Father,” McCarthy said. “I am so sorry. I know he was a friend.”

“Yes he was,” Brown said softly. “A very dear friend.”

“I’m sure he is with God now,” McCarthy nodded. “I’ll be sure to say a prayer for the family.”

“Thank you,” Brown said. “That is very kind.”

He was about to say something else when he happened to catch movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked around Mrs. McCarthy to see Sid just outside his door, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide with shock. Sid stayed that way for only a few seconds more before dashing away.

“Sid!” Father Brown said, leaping to his feet and taking off after him. He followed the sound of Sid’s footsteps out the door and into the graveyard next to the church. It wasn’t long before he found Sid sitting along the church wall, gasping.

“Sid….”

“Go away!” Sid yelled at him. Father Brown knelt down on the grass beside him.

“Sid, I….”

“It’s not true!” Sid cut in. “What you said about Uncle Arthur….it can’t be.”

“I am sorry,” Father Brown said. “But that letter was from his sister so I’m afraid….I’m sorry, I should have remembered that he was a friend to you as well.”

Sid gasped some more, his head drooping down. “You’re sending me away now, aren’t you? ‘Cause Uncle Arthur is gone.”

“No, of course not,” Brown insisted. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s what you want, isn’t it?” Sid shot back as he looked up. “You don’t want me here. You just let me stay here ‘cause he asked you to let me. Nobody’s going to want me. Not when…not when they….”

Sid hiccupped and pressed his hands against his face. “It’s my fault…mum and dad….They wanted to go out, but I didn’t want Mrs. Hoskins watching me. And I kept at it…so they stayed home. And…and that’s why…..”

“Sid,” Father Brown said, reaching over to place his hands on Sid’s shoulders. “That wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known that that would happen.” Sid tried to squirm out of his grip, but Father Brown made sure to hold onto him.

“Sid…Sid, listen to me,” he insisted. “What happened to your parents was not your fault. No one blames you for it. I can assure you that Arthur didn’t. And you should know that Arthur told me that the very last thing your mother said was that she wanted you somewhere where you could be safe and happy. So I am certain that if they could talk to you now, they would tell you that you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

Sid finally stopped trying to get away. Instead he let his head drop while his shoulders started to heave. Father Brown blinked hard, feeling tears of his own rise up in his eyes.

“I miss them,” Sid choked out. “Mum and Dad…why did they die? Why did they leave me alone?”

“I don’t know,” Father Brown said gently. “But what I do know is that they still love you. And that you are not alone because God is right next to you. And He loves you and won’t ever leave you.”

By that point, Sid was unable to contain his tears anymore and started to cry. Father Brown leaned over and embraced him which Sid responded to by throwing his arms around him. His heart still felt heavy over the loss of his friend, but now he also felt grief over the thought that Sid had been carrying such a terrible burden inside him since arriving in Kembleford. He prayed that Sid would let go of his guilt and find some comfort in his words.

They stayed like that for several minutes until Sid finally was able to calm down.

“I’m sorry,” Sid gulped as he pulled away, still wiping his face with the back of his hand. “I got your shirt wet.” Father Brown smiled at him, certain that this was a broader apology than that.

“It’s all right. I forgive you,” he said. “Now, how about we go back inside and….”

“I want to stay,” Sid said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I, I don’t want to go away. I want to stay with you.”

“Sid, I have no intention of sending you away,” Father Brown assured him. “I promise, you will always have a home at the presbytery.”

Sid sniffled a few more times as his tears continued to wind down. He stared at the ground silently for a couple of minutes before finally speaking again.

“Father?”

“What is it?”

“Could you….could you read to me tonight?” Father Brown smiled again and patted Sid’s back.

“Of course,” he said. “After all, I imagine you’re as eager to find out what happens to Jim on the shore as I was when I heard it the first time.”

A small smile appeared on Sid’s face as he let out a short chuckle. Father Brown’s smile grew as he stood up and offered a hand to help Sid up from the ground. Once Sid was on his feet, they walked back together. As they did, Father Brown sensed that a change had just occurred. A change not only in Sid but also in himself.

A change that was sure to continue to unfold in the future.

 


	4. A Night Out

“I don’t know how I let you talk me into this.”

“Well, Sid had worked hard to earn the shillings he needed for a ticket. It seemed unfair to deny him the chance to spend his money as he wished.”

“Oh, I’m not saying he shouldn’t enjoy his money, but why did we have to come here?”

“The rules were that no children under the age of twelve could come without a chaperone. And Sid did express a keen desire to see this movie.”

“But _Curse of the Werewolf Moon_? Couldn’t he have chosen a more wholesome film to see?”

“It might not be so bad. I hear that the main protagonist is a priest who is trying to drive dark forces away from his parish. Sounds like a classic morality tale. The triumph of good over evil.”

“More like an excuse to have a bunch of heathens doing God knows what on the screen.”

“I didn’t mean to pull you away from your filing. Sid and I would have been fine….”

“And have the two of you go to this, this, abomination of a film on your own? No, no someone has to keep an eye on things.”

“Of course Mrs. McCarthy,” Father Brown nodded. He saw Mrs. McCarthy give a curt nod of her own, indicating that she considered the matter closed.

Meanwhile, Sid Carter had been strolling a short distance in front of them, a definite bounce in his step. He hadn’t seemed to hear the conversation that was going on behind him. Or if he did, Father Brown suspected that Sid had been amused by it.

By this point, it had been a couple of months since Sid had moved into the presbytery and while there were still some rough patches, he did seem to be recovering from his grief and settling into his new life. He had started to smile and laugh again and Father Brown was delighted to learn that Sid had a pawky sense of humor along with curiosity and wit.  He was also pleased to see that Sid was an industrious worker as well as a kindhearted child. He had started to make friends with the other children in the village and seemed to be getting along in school.

At one point, Sid had asked about the possibility of an allowance and Father Brown offered the compromise of arranging it so Sid could do a variety of odd jobs for people in the parish. Asking to go to this movie was the first time he had requested to do something outside of school, chores and other daily routines. Thus, Father Brown had found it impossible to turn Sid’s request down.

Especially when he saw how enthusiastic Sid was over dinner yesterday.

_“Sam Travers saw it a week ago when he was visiting his uncle and he said it was the scariest movie he had ever seen. He said that it had a bunch of werewolves in it and there’s this huge chase with a wagon and a spooky mansion and, and…and I can’t wait to see it.”_

Back in the present, Father Brown smiled as he remembered this. It was during that spiel that Mrs. McCarthy insisted that she accompany them. But not even her well-vocalized concerns about the movie could quell Sid’s excitement.

“Hey,” Sid said, turning around to face them. “Can we get some popcorn? I’ve got an extra shilling.”

“And spoil your dinner?” Mrs. McCarthy replied.

“One small box of popcorn shouldn’t do too much harm,” Father Brown said.

“I suppose that’s true enough,” McCarthy nodded. “The boy eats like a horse.”

“Well, that’s understandable when he can enjoy your cooking, Mrs. M,” Father Brown smiled at her. “Save your shilling, Sid. I wouldn’t mind some popcorn myself. We can share a box.”

Sid grinned at him. It was a smile that could brighten anyone’s mood, although Father Brown always detected a touch of mischief behind it.

They arrived at the town hall and bought their tickets and a box of popcorn. At one point, while Mrs. McCarthy wasn’t looking, Father Brown pulled out a pair of humbugs wrapped in foil from his pocket to give to Sid. Sid stuck one into his pocket and swiftly unwrapped the other one and popped it into his mouth before Mrs. McCarthy could notice.

They found some empty seats toward the middle of the theater area and sat down with Father Brown sitting between Sid and Mrs. McCarthy.

“It looks like a good-sized crowd,” Brown noted. “This movie must be getting popular.”

“Sad is what it is,” McCarthy replied. “I’ll never understand why these movies get made when they could be making a nice, romantic movie. Or even a fine adventure tale. Not this pagan trash.”

The lights went down, ending the discussion. Father Brown carefully passed another humbug to Sid. He smiled when he realized that Sid waited until the movie started to cover up the sound of the wrapper being taken off.

After that, Brown helped himself to a generous handful of popcorn and leaned back in his chair to enjoy the movie.

* * *

 

Almost two hours later, the three of them were walking back toward the presbytery. By the time, the sun had almost set with twilight having taken over the sky.

“Oh, why did they have to make that movie so scary?” Mrs. McCarthy fretted. “I’ll be having nightmares all night, just you see.”

Father Brown thoughtfully sucked on his last humbug while he walked. He had thought that the movie was fast paced and interesting. However, he was disappointed that the local priest had been so willing to cling to superstition rather than rely on reason to solve his problems. That and the fact that the priest had put so much stock in the concept of luck rather than God’s intervention. Still, Brown was pleased to see how attentive he had been to his parishioners and how determined he had been in the face of evil. Plus, it wasn’t often that a priest got to be the hero of a movie.

“It’s getting late to start supper,” McCarthy continued. “It’ll be getting dark soon. And I should be getting hone.”

“Perhaps we can make a meal out of some leftovers we have on hand,” Father Brown said. “I seem to recall that there was some roast beef still in the fridge.”

“There is,” McCarthy confirmed. “Although, I don’t see how you or Sid could be hungry after all that….Wait, where is Sid?”

Father Brown blinked in surprise. Sid had been walking close to them just a couple of moments ago. But now, he seemed to have vanished into thin air.

“Sidney?” Mrs. McCarthy called. “Sidney Carter, where are you? Oh Father, you don’t think he’s….”

Her words trailed off as she and Father Brown continued to look around. But they could find no sign of Sid anywhere close by. Concern began to worm its way into Brown and was just starting to take root when he suddenly heard a faint rustle from the bushes next to where they were standing.

Seconds later, Sid jumped out from behind the largest bush, his arms raised over his head and his fingers curled into claws.

“ ** _Rawr_**!”

Upon seeing Mrs. McCarthy start violently and put a hand to her chest, Sid burst into a fit of giggles. Father Brown had been able to maintain a neutral demeanor. But just barely.

“Sidney Carter, what on Earth do you think you’re doing?” McCarthy scolded. “Scaring people like that. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

“Aw, I was only kidding,” Sid chuckled. “You should have seen your face. You really thought I was a werewolf, didn’t you?”

“Of course not,” she snapped. “I was just concerned for your wellbeing. I see now that I shouldn’t have been.”

Father Brown worked hard to stifle the urge to smile while Mrs. McCarthy continued to express her indignation over Sid’s prank. It wasn’t until he offered to walk her home that she seemed to be satisfied.

“And you can forget about dinner tonight,” McCarthy added. “I’m sure you had enough at the movie to last you until tomorrow.”

“Aw, but I’m hungry,” Sid pouted. “And breakfast is so far away.”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you decided to try to become a werewolf,” McCarthy replied.

“It was just a joke,” Sid protested. “And besides, you know there’s no such thing as werewolves, right?”

“It is getting rather late,” Father Brown said. “Perhaps we can make do with using that roast beef to make some sandwiches.”

“Yeah,” Sid nodded eagerly. “And the strawberry scones you made today.”

“Who said anything about my scones?” Mrs. McCarthy said. “I was saving those for tea time tomorrow.” Sid looked up at her with pleading eyes, prompting her to sigh. “I suppose could spare a couple.”

Sid grinned again, causing Mrs. McCarthy to smile back in spite of herself. Father Brown joined in as the three of them walked into the presbytery.

* * *

 

An hour later, Father Brown had escorted Mrs. McCarthy home while Sid finished his meal and went to bed. He had gotten to bed later than usual, so Brown decided to skip reading to Sid tonight so Sid could get some sleep as soon as possible.

Instead, he went to his room and read a book that a fellow priest from a neighboring village had sent him. After a few minutes of reading, Father Brown felt himself getting drowsy and decided to turn off his light so he could sleep.

He had just been on the cusp of unconsciousness when the soft patter of bare feet on the floor next to him caught his attention. He put on his glasses and flicked on the lamp near his bed to find Sid crouching down next to the bed.

“Sid?” he said as he sat up. “What are you doing down there?”

“I’m hiding,” Sid replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Hiding?” Brown echoed. “Hiding from what?” A slight blush appeared on Sid’s cheeks and he looked to the side. “I thought you didn’t believe in werewolves.”

“I don’t,” Sid blurted. “But…if there were any…not that there are, but if there were…they wouldn’t come in here ‘cause they wouldn’t want to run into a priest.”

“Lest they suffer the same fate they did in the movie?” Brown said with a trace of a smile. “If that is true, I doubt that they would come here in the first place. I’m also certain that the floor will not be a comfortable place for you to sleep, so….”

“But I heard a noise,” Sid cut in. “I mean, wouldn’t it be better to stick together? Just in case?”

Father Brown finally allowed himself to smile while pushing aside his blankets. “How about we investigate the noise you heard together?”

Sid nodded as he stood up while Father Brown put on his robe and grabbed a flashlight from the dresser in his room. They crept down the stairs slowly and carefully. Father Brown swept the light from his flashlight back and forth in front of him while Sid made sure to stay close behind him.

They made it all the way to the front room before Father Brown let out a sigh.

“Well, I don’t see anything down here,” he said. “Perhaps you heard the wind or….”

A clatter from outside cut Father Brown short and he turned his flashlight toward a window. Sid gasped and moved even closer to him, clutching the edge of his robe.

“What was that?” Sid whispered. “A monster?” Brown peered out the window.

“No,” he said. “I believe that was Mrs. Williams’ cat, Percy. She must have accidently locked him outside again.” A muffled ‘meow’ confirmed his suspicions.

“Yeah, but what if it was something outside that scared him?” Sid said. “What if there’s something lurking outside and Percy’s the only one who’s spotted it yet?”  Brown lowered his flashlight and turned toward him with an amused look on his face.

“I suppose we could keep a lookout for a bit. See if anything is lurking outside.”

Sid nodded eagerly as the two of them sat down on the couch to begin their quiet vigil near the window.

* * *

 

 The next morning, Mrs. McCarthy showed up a little earlier than normal to the presbytery. She had had a fitful sleep the night before due to half-formed dreams about werewolves running around Kembleford and converging on one of the church’s bake sales.

_‘I’m never letting the Father or Sid drag me to one of those horrid films ever again,’_ she told herself on the way there.

Then she shook all thoughts of the previous night aside as she walked up to the presbytery door. She decided to get an early start on some paperwork she needed to finish by the end of the week and see if she could set up some appointments to audition organ players for the services in two weeks. First though, she figured she could offer to make breakfast for the Father and Sid to make up for skipping on dinner the day before.

_‘Not that they deserve it,’_ she thought as she opened the door.

As she walked in, she was startled by the sound of snoring coming from the front room. She snuck toward it and was surprised by the sight that greeted her.

There on the sofa near the window were Father Brown and Sid, both of them fast asleep. The Father was leaning against the back of the couch as if to look out the window while Sid had curled up beside him, his head resting against Father Brown’s shoulder.

_‘Hopeless,’_ she thought as she put her hands on her hips. _‘Those two are absolutely hopeless._ _What would they do without me looking after things?’_

Mrs. McCarthy shook her head before picking up a blanket that was draped on the back of one of the chairs. She gingerly draped it over Father Brown and Sid before going off to the kitchen to get breakfast started.

 


	5. Falling Away, part one

“Isn’t it wonderful, Father? So many families within the parish have made a contribution to our art fair.”

Father Brown nodded as he took in the sight in the churchyard in front of him. He had requested suggestions for new ideas for fundraisers, and Lady Felicia had approached him about hosting this event after a brief vacation in France. While she was there, she had stopped by a small village that had set up a sale of paintings from local artists to pay for some badly needed construction work on the main road of the village.

Around the same time, Father Brown had been contacted by an old friend of his from his seminary days, Father Stephan. Stephan headed a small church in London; St. Peter’s which had recently suffered damage from the recent Blitz bombings. Thus, Brown figured that this would be a good opportunity to give Lady Felicia’s idea a try. The suggestion met with the usual resistance…such as Mrs. McCarthy referring to it as “hogwash”…but when he proposed it to the congregation after Mass one Sunday, his parishioners seemed to respond to it favorably. The fact that Lady Felicia also promised free tea, sandwiches and desserts on the day of the event probably helped things along.

The result was an even more enthusiastic response than anyone had anticipated. Almost thirty art pieces were donated for the event. The pieces ranged from oil and watercolor paintings to wood working and sculpture and even jewelry craft and photography. Each piece was going to be sold off in a silent auction with all of the proceeds being sent to St. Peter’s to help with the repair to the church.

Father Brown finished the sandwich in his hand and brushed a couple of crumbs off his cassock. The turnout for the actual event had been good, and from the look of it, almost every art piece had at least one bid on it.

 _‘Good to see that no efforts will go unappreciated,’_ he thought. He poured himself another cup of tea and was just about to drink it when Mrs. McCarthy and Lady Felicia ran up to him.

“The last item finally got a bid, Father,” Felicia said.

“Which was a miracle, if you ask me,” McCarthy added.

“Then it’s a good thing that nobody had asked you,” Felicia retorted. “I imagine my sculpture did not receive the proper attention it deserved due to being put next to that drab, little watercolor painting.”

“Drab?” McCarthy gasped. “Just because I chose to make a simple portrait of our fair countryside rather than throw together some misshapen monstrosity….”

“I thought we had all agreed to keep the identities of the artists confidential,” Father Brown injected.

“We did,” Mrs. McCarthy nodded primly. “But just because there aren’t any names on these art pieces doesn’t mean that people can’t figure out who made them.”

“Quite right,” Felicia said. “The works might be anonymous, but the personality of the artist will always show itself in their work.”

“Good,” Brown said. “Glad to see that we’re all in agreement.” Lady Felicia and Mrs. McCarthy looked at each other with bemusement while he gulped down his tea. “Excuse me.”

He left them behind so he could examine each piece one more time before the auction was over and to check on the bids that had been submitted thus far. Some of the pieces were clearly done by amateur hands, but some of them showed professional skill which intrigued him. He wondered how many other hidden talents the members of his parish possessed and how he might discover more about them.

Several of the pieces had multiple bids which Father Brown was pleased to see. A rough estimate of the total bids told him that they would be making a significant donation toward the rebuilding of St. Peter’s. It was always gratifying to him to see how generous the members of his flock could be in the face of a crisis.

The sound of laughter caught his attention and he looked over to see some children playing near the churchyard. He spotted Sid and a couple of other boys leaning against a building and talking to each other.

Father Brown’s face fell a little. He was glad that Sid was making friends with other children in the village. However, those two boys in particular had become rather wayward in the last year or so. Given the fact that Sid had a penchant for mischief himself; Brown worried that his hanging around the wrong crowd could lead to trouble and temptations that might be hard for Sid to resist.

Still, Father Brown made sure to not interfere with Sid’s social life. True, those boys had gotten into trouble before, but it was wrong to assume that that trend would necessarily continue or that they lacked the capacity to be good. He would have to trust Sid to make the right choices in his personal affairs.

“Father,” Mrs. McCarthy called to him. “They’re ready for you to announce the final bids.”

“Right, on my way,” Father Brown said. He glanced over at Sid one more time before heading back toward the crowd that had gathered.

Almost two hours and a couple of last-minute bids later, the bids were sorted out, the money was collected and the art pieces were distributed among the winning buyers. As he gathered the money into a locked wooden box, he realized that the total proceeds probably exceeded his original estimate.

 _‘I should call Father Stephan tomorrow morning,’_ he thought. _‘The last time we spoke, he wasn’t sure if he could be able to pay for the repairs to the altar. It will be a blessing for him to know that he will be able to start on that work soon.’_

“Oh where is that boy?” Mrs. McCarthy huffed, her hands on her hips. “Father, I told Sidney that he was to help with the cleanup.”

Father Brown frowned and scanned the courtyard. Sure enough, there was no sign of Sid or his friends anywhere in or around the churchyard. He let out a small sigh, but made sure to smile when he looked over at Mrs. McCarthy.

“I’m sure we can get a couple more of the WI ladies to pitch in,” he assured her. “After all, ‘many hands make light work.’”

“I suppose so,” McCarthy frowned. “Still, this isn’t the first time he’s wriggled out of his chores of late. This could be the beginnings of a bad habit.”

“I’ll speak with him after dinner,” Brown said.

“Good,” McCarthy nodded. “I know you mean well, Father, but sometimes you ought to be a little less forgiving and take a firmer hand with Sid. Trust me, it’s for his own good.”

Father Brown nodded as he began to gather up the plates. He knew that Mrs. McCarthy had a valid point. Sid needed to learn responsibility and the necessity of honoring his word when it’s given to others. Because Sid was still a child, Father Brown knew it would be up to him to instruct Sid and give him boundaries so he could learn these concepts. Brown wasn’t entirely sure of what sort of discipline would be best. He was only certain that it would need to be consistent and punitive without being vengeful in nature.

* * *

 

Later that evening, Father Brown and Sid were sitting at the kitchen table, finishing up some shepherd’s pies that Mrs. McCarthy had left them. Sid, as usual, had already cleaned off his plate before Father Brown was done and was about to get up when Brown placed a hand on his arm.

“Mrs. McCarthy was expecting your help with the cleanup after the auction today,” he said. “As was I.”

“Sorry,” Sid replied. “But I…I had stuff to do.”

“I’m sure you did. But that does not mean that you can skip doing the work you were already obligated to do.”

Sid rolled his eyes and fell back against his chair. “Fine. I’ll make sure to do it next time.”

Father Brown frowned. “Sid, it’s important that you do not attend to your chores solely because I tell you to do so. Daily chores are part of the responsibilities you have while living in this house. Also, when you make a promise to someone, you ought to keep it.”

“I said, fine, all right?” Sid sighed. “I promise, I’ll make sure to do it next time. Can I be excused now?”

Father Brown frowned a little more. This talk wasn’t going the way he had hoped. Sid seemed to only agree with him to avoid an argument rather than coming around to his point of view. Still, Sid did acknowledge that what he did was wrong and seemed to be somewhat contrite over it. And Brown was aware that some lessons needed time to truly sink in. Pressing his point even more right now might do more harm than good.

“All right, you’re excused,” he said. “But remember, you’re to be back in by nine ‘o clock.”

“I know,” Sid nodded. He got up from his chair. “See you later, Father.”

Sid dashed out the side door while Father Brown watched, a slight smile appearing on his face. He finished the last bit of his pie before getting up to put the dishes into the sink to be cleaned later.

* * *

 

It was just after midnight when a noise woke Father Brown up. It sounded like footsteps and low voices. Someone, more than likely more than one someone, was downstairs.

Brown sat up in bed and reached over to his bedside table to fetch his glasses. It wasn’t a total shock to hear someone downstairs at this time of night. He did leave the church and the presbytery unlocked and it was not unusual for someone to need a priest at all sorts of odd hours. Thus, he wasn’t overly concerned about it, but he was aware that he needed to be a bit more cautious these days because he now had Sid to consider.

He grabbed his robe and put it on along with his slippers before quietly walking down the stairs. As he descended, he was able to make out most of what the voices were saying.

“Can’t you get the lock?”

“Do I look like I’ve got a key?”

“Come on, hurry up. You said it’d only take you a minute to do this.”

Father Brown followed the voices to his office and saw that there was what looked like candlelight streaming through a crack in the doorway. He immediately decided that more light was in order.

He swept the door open and flicked on the light switch on the wall. He discovered three boys huddled in a circle behind his desk. One of them was Doug Abernathy who was holding the locked wooden box that held the proceeds from the art auction. Another was Nicky Anders whose hands held several shillings which he was certain came from said box.

And the one holding the candle was Sid.

“What is going on here?” Father Brown asked, his tone a mixture of disbelief and disheartened.

All of the boys opened their mouths and started to point at each other before hanging their heads in shame. Doug sat the box down and grabbed the candle from Sid. Nicky shoved the money he was holding back into the box. Then the three of them walked out from behind the desk to stand in front of Brown.

“We’re sorry, Father,” Doug and Nicky said in unison. Sid bowed his head even more and remained silent.

“I forgive you,” Brown said. “And God will as well if you are truly repentant. Now, I think we can avoid involving the authorities…or your parents. I have some yard work around the church that needs to be done. I think a day of your time spent on that will be suitable penance. Say, tomorrow at three ‘o clock?”

“Yes Father,” Nicky said. “We’ll be here. Come on, Doug.”

Brown moved aside so Nicky and Doug could shuffle out of the room and out the side door of the presbytery. Sid started to walk out too, but Father Brown held up a hand to stop him.

“What happened here, Sidney?” he said, anger creeping into his tone. Sid slumped down even more.

“We, we were just going to borrow it,” he mumbled. “It was only going to be a few shillings and we were going to put it back later. It wasn’t even for me.”

“No, but you were helping other people steal,” Brown replied. “That money is for a church in London who is in dire need of assistance. You of all people should know what hardships they’re facing.”

“I know,” Sid said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Father.”

Father Brown watched Sid silently for a moment. He was still upset over what happened, but did not want to let his feelings cloud his judgment over how to handle the situation. He took a deep breath and turned to face the hallway.

“I see no reason for Mrs. McCarthy to hear about this,” he said. “For now, I think it would be best if we returned to our rooms for the night. We’ll discuss your penance in the morning before breakfast.”

“Father,” Sid croaked out. “I’m really sorry. I…I didn’t think about….”

“Sidney, we’ll discuss this in the morning,” Father Brown interrupted.

“Please Father,” Sid said. “Please don’t be angry.”

Brown let out a soft sigh. “I’m not angry….but I am very disappointed in you.”

Father Brown walked away from his office to back up the stairs to his room and get back into bed. A few moments later, he could hear Sid make his way to his room and shut the door behind him.

With a heavy heart, Father Brown closed his eyes and tried to quiet his mind so he could get some sleep.

 


	6. Falling Away, part two

Sid did not get very much sleep that night.

He tossed and turned in his bed, unable to find a way to get comfortable or to settle down so he could rest. During those few times when he did start to drift asleep, Father Brown’s words would echo in his mind.

_“…I’m very disappointed in you….”_

Sid squeezed his eyes shut and punched his pillow. He almost wished the Father had gotten angry with him. That he had gotten yelled at, received a punishment or even had his ears boxed. At least then, he could feel bad about it for a while, but then could move on and make sure he didn’t repeat his mistakes. But this, this was far worse.

_“…I’m very disappointed in you….”_

The words felt like a lead ball at the pit of his stomach, making Sid feel sick. While he still missed his parents deeply, staying with Father Brown these last few months had helped him cope. The Father had been attentive and caring, and Sid was starting to feel like he had a home here. Granted, it was a bit of an odd living situation, but the Father and Mrs. McCarthy had made him feel welcome in the presbytery. As had Lady Felicia whenever she stopped by. Even when he had gotten a little too rambunctious or had misbehaved, Father Brown had gently corrected him and there was no lingering tension or hard feelings afterward.

But this…Sid knew that this was much more serious. This wasn’t like the time when he had knocked over that vase in the front room or had snitched a couple biscuits that Mrs. McCarthy had made. This time, he had broken the Father’s trust. A trust that had been given to him so freely and with no restrictions even though Sid had been reluctant to trust him in return at first. And here he had gone and thrown that trust away. Not to mention how he had made Father Brown look like a fool for trusting him in the first place.

Sid flipped over onto his back and scowled as he stared at the ceiling. Perhaps the worst thing about all of this was that it hadn’t even been his idea to take the money in the first place. He hadn’t even wanted any of it. Not that badly. Doug had needed a little extra to visit his uncle while Nicky had simply been tired of doing so many errands for people just to earn a few measly shillings so he could afford a toy he had had his eye on for a year.

Looking back at it, Sid realized that he should have known that it was wrong. Doug had insisted that they would pay back every bit that they had borrowed and Nicky said that it wasn’t really stealing if they were going to give it back. At the time, their reasoning made sense to Sid, but now he couldn’t believe that he was dumb enough to agree with it.

He had noticed plenty of signs throughout the day that this was probably a bad idea. Like how he’d been so nervous about his plans and had made a conscious effort to avoid Father Brown and Mrs. McCarthy all day. Even to the point of conveniently “forgetting” to help out after the auction. Sid had felt bad about that and had wanted to apologize. But he couldn’t think of a way to do it that wouldn’t also reveal his plot to help the others take the money. Nor did he feel bad enough about it at the time to put a stop to his plans.

As much as he regretted what he had done now, Sid was certain that he’d probably do it again, despite the warnings he had had. Mainly because he hadn’t wanted to let his friends down.

_‘So instead, I let the Father down….’_

Sid felt his eyes burn and his throat get tight. Father Brown had said that he was forgiven, but Sid couldn’t really believe it. Not because he thought the Father would lie. But Sid figured that Father Brown had to forgive people because he was a priest. And in his mind, that wasn’t the same as really forgiving someone. Then again, even if Father Brown did forgive him, that didn’t mean that the Father did not regret taking him in right now.

Sid turned over onto his side, curling his limbs up so he could lie in a tight ball. He was sure that he was on shaky ground with the Father. The only thing he could do now is find a way to get back on Father Brown’s good side. Maybe then, he could fix things and it would be all right again.

_“…I’m very disappointed in you….”_

Sid brushed his sleeve over his eyes and took a deep breath to try and calm down. He would start working on this tomorrow. No matter what he was asked to do or how long it took, he’d find a way to make this right so Father Brown would truly forgive him.

* * *

 

The next morning, Father Brown woke up early, his mind unable to truly rest in the face of the unpleasant tasks this new day brought.

Even though Sid had exhibited a tendency toward “sticky fingers” in the past, he had sincerely believed that it would never morph beyond occasional petty theft and that it would decrease over time. He was also sure that Sid would never take from those who needed Christian charity, including the church itself.

However, the fact remained that he had attempted to steal church funds…and had brought others into his plot.

Brown sat up in bed and put his glasses on. It had hurt that Sid had chosen to do that, but he also knew that he could forgive Sid for it. For all his faults, Sid still possessed a generous spirit which Brown was confident could be channeled toward good deeds. Plus, it was impossible to deny that he had grown fond of him in the short time that Sid had lived in the presbytery. As a result, he wasn’t eager to punish him.

Still, Father Brown also believed in the importance of penance to atone for one’s transgressions. Sid needed to learn that actions had consequences and this was a part of that lesson.

Just as important was the need to make sure that this did not happen again.

It looked like he would be able to keep this incident quiet this time, but if there was another one, it could be disastrous. The church’s funds were usually sorted at the presbytery before they were deposited in the church’s accounts at the bank or distributed for earmarked projects and charities. Not only could Brown not afford to have any of those funds go missing due to how much they were needed by people inside and outside of the parish, but also any irregularities in the church’s finances could damage Bishop Talbot’s confidence in his ability to manage St. Mary’s.

Brown frowned even more. Talbot was not the sort of person who would be very forgiving if he found out that one of the priests he oversaw was allowing a thief to prey on the church. Talbot was already somewhat displeased about Sid living in the presbytery as it was. Brown had only been able to excuse it on the grounds of Christian charity and the possibility that the local orphanages might soon be overwhelmed by children who had lost their families in the war. Finding out that Sid had stolen even a few shillings from a fundraiser could be the catalyst for Talbot to order him to send Sid to an orphanage with no possible room for argument. Which was the last thing Father Brown wanted to do.

He let out a sigh. No, in order to help Sid in the long run, he would have to be strict in handling this situation. While it wasn’t the happiest of chores, he was hopeful that disciplining Sid this way would lead to a positive result. One that would make it possible for them to get back to their normal routines without further incidents.

Father Brown got out of bed and put on his robe before going downstairs to start making his and Sid’s breakfast. He was surprised, however, to find Sid already sitting at the table, his head down and his eyes fixed on the tabletop. Brown sat down across from him.

“Doug Hoskins and Nicky Anders will be tending to the graveyard today,” he said. “I’ll leave you to take care of the grass and weeds around the church and the presbytery. It should only take you an afternoon to do.”

“Yes Father,” Sid mumbled, his head still down.

“Also, our new housekeeper, Martha Wickers, will be arriving tomorrow. Mrs. McCarthy will be acquainting her with her regular household duties and I thought you could help out by taking care of the floors for her first week here.”

Sid frowned, but nodded his head. “Yes Father.”

“And Mrs. McCarthy has mentioned needing a little help in sorting the hymnals and prayer books in the church. I’m sure she’ll appreciate your help with that over the next couple of days.”

“Yes Father,” Sid repeated dully. “Um, what about…other things? Like school or….”

“You’ll come straight home after school and do your lessons before starting your chores,” Father Brown replied. “I’m sure your friends will understand why you won’t have any free time for the rest of this week.”

“Yes Father,” Sid said yet again. Father Brown leaned closer to him.

“Sid…I hope you understand why I am doing this. And that you know why what you did was wrong.”

“I know,” Sid croaked, ducking his head even more. “I’m sorry, Father. I really am.”

“I believe you,” Brown nodded. “Now, I do hope that this is a lesson that will not have to be repeated.”

Sid shook his head vigorously and Father Brown acknowledged it with another nod. Then he got up and made breakfast. He still wasn’t entirely sure if Sid completely understood the lessons he needed to learn from this incident, but he was certain that this was a step in the right direction.

* * *

 

Over the next week, Father Brown didn’t see much of Sid.

Part of that was because there was an uptick in his duties within the church. Bishop Talbot had dropped by a couple of times with “suggestions” for how Father Brown could adjust the administrative routines of the church. This left him and Mrs. McCarthy busy completing a bunch of paperwork that Brown was certain would end up being frivolous in the end.

On top of that, there were some severe illnesses among a couple of the larger families in the parish and Brown had spent several hours visiting people who had become bedridden and providing guidance for the rest of the family. As a result, he didn’t spent much time at the presbytery these days.

Although, even if he did spent more time there, Father Brown was aware that he probably wouldn’t run into Sid very much anyway. These days, Sid spent almost every waking minute toward either school or the chores he had been assigned. The only times Father Brown did see him was during meals that were tense, rushed affairs. Sid would eat as quickly as he could which wasn’t unusual on its own. But instead of relaxing and joining in the conversations between Father Brown and Mrs. McCarthy, Sid would remain silent and often acted antsy. As if he was anxious to do something else. Even bedtimes were no longer the same because Sid usually was close to falling asleep as soon as he got into bed.

Father Brown wasn’t happy with the situation and was suspicious about the fact that Sid seemed to be trying to avoid him. However, none of it really surprised him either. It was still a little awkward to have a child who tried to steal from the church living with him and he imagined that Sid was still feeling contrite over what he had done. Still, he was certain that these feelings would soon pass. The important things were that Sid appeared to have learned from his mistakes and that it was unlikely that there would be a repeat of this incident.

It would just take time for things to get back to normal.

* * *

 

By the middle of the second week, Sid was tired.

Not only had he finished the yard work and the book sorting that Mrs. McCarthy assigned to him, but he had also cleaned all of the floors of the presbytery multiple times. As well as taken care of the dusting and window washing for the week. Between school and his ever-growing list of chores, Sid hadn’t had a moment to himself. Other than those few moments right before he fell asleep.

Sid kicked a stone alongside the road as he walked back toward the presbytery after school. He was sure that Martha would have even more chores for him to do today than he had yesterday. She had started adding to the list after the first couple of days she started working at the presbytery. Martha said that she was attending to other chores while Sid worked on the chores he was assigned, but he was certain that she was taking it easy most of the time.

Still, he did not dare confront her on it. After what he had done last week, he was sure that he couldn’t afford to make a fuss lest he upset the Father again. Besides that, Sid believed that Martha was probably acting under Father Brown’s orders. As a way to thoroughly punish him for what he had done.

“Sid! Hey Sid!”

Sid paused and turned to see Nicky running up to him. He walked alongside Sid on the gravel road, swinging his book bag around as he did.

“Hey, Sid, slow down,” Nicky said. “Let’s go hang out by the store for a bit.”

“Can’t,” Sid mumbled, jamming his hands into his pockets. “I’ve got chores to do.”

“Again?” Nicky said. “Aren’t they done punishing you yet?” Sid shrugged and Nicky shook his head. “The Father is just being mean to you now. We didn’t even actually steal anything.”

“But we tried to!” Sid snapped. “We shouldn’t have done it.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Nicky shrugged. “But I thought he would have forgiven you by now. How long are you going to be doing this?”

“As long as I gotta,” Sid shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

“Well, if it starts getting too tough, I could see if my dad will let you stay with us for a bit,” Nicky said. “So you can figure out if you want to leave Kembleford and go somewhere else. Like back to London when it calms down there.”

“Thanks,” Sid said. “I’ll think about it. But, uh, I got to go now. See you later.”

“See you,” Nicky said as he ran off, waving as he did.

Sid waved back and stopped a few yards from the presbytery. He thought about Nicky’s offer more than once as he watched his friend disappear from view. He wished that he could stop working nonstop and while he had heard that there were still some incidents of bombing in London, Sid figured some of his old friends might still be there. Or they might return soon from wherever they had been evacuated to.

It didn’t take Sid long though to discard that idea. He still had nightmares once in while about the night his neighborhood had been bombed and he did not want relieve any part of that experience. Also, while London had been his birthplace and his home for years, there was nothing there for him now. His family was gone. The house he grew up in was destroyed. And chances were, most everyone he knew was either dead or had moved away.

All he had now was the home that Father Brown had made for him at the presbytery. It wasn’t perfect, but he had started to be happy again. Something he hadn’t thought would be possible after he lost his parents. Something he still desperately needed to hold onto.

Something, he knew, he would do anything to keep.


	7. Falling Away, part three

A couple of days later, Sid trudged into the presbytery after school to find Martha in the kitchen, her hands on her hips, scowling at him.

“And where have you been?” she snapped. “You should have been back ten minutes ago.”

“Sorry,” Sid mumbled. “I got caught up.”

“Well now you need to get busy,” Martha said. “Your lunch is on the table. Eat up and then you can start by scrubbing the floors in here.”

“Can’t. I’ve got to do my lessons first,” Sid said as he sat down. “The Father said I had to do my schoolwork before chores.”

“You’ve got time between dinner and before you go to bed, don’t you?” she asked. “You can do it then. But as soon as you’re done, you need to get to work on this floor because I have a much bigger job for you after that. You’re polishing the floors in the church.”

“What all of it?” Sid goggled. “Tonight?”

“Yes, today,” Marsha said with a huff. “I plan on going out this weekend and we need to have the church done up before then. It shouldn’t take you more than an hour or so to scrub the floors and then a couple more to polish them. If you work quickly, you’ll only be a few minutes late for dinner. So hurry up and get going….unless you want me to talk to the Father about how you keep trying to defy me.”

“No,” Sid mumbled, lowering his head. He fumed over having to do such a large chore by himself, but he did not say a word. He didn’t like it, but he would learn to put up with it.

He would have to.

* * *

 

Father Brown cycled along the streets of Kembleford, his mind going over the events of this past week.

Over the last few days, the Whittaker family had one member of their household become bedridden and another one die in a farming accident. As a result, he had spent much of his time visiting with relatives in several houses and very little at the presbytery. In fact, he had had to get up earlier and go to bed later just to keep up with his normal duties as well as tend to the family.

By now though, the family was ready to start healing on their own and life would return to its normal routines. Truthfully, Brown was relieved that he would be able to catch up on his work around the church and finally have some time for rest and leisure.

He spotted the local grocer and decided to stop. Some pear drops sounded good just then and he liked to have a few extra around the office in case Mrs. McCarthy needed some. As he walked into the shop, he saw a new jar on the counter that was filled with liquorice allsorts.

Father Brown smiled. Sid was fond of the colorful, chewy candy and a small handful seemed like an ideal treat that wouldn’t spoil dinner. He got a small bag of them along with his pear drops and pocketed them as he went back out to his bicycle.

“Father?”

Brown whirled around and was surprised to see Nicky Anders standing behind him. The boy kept shuffling his feet and looking off to the side.

“I just want to say I’m sorry,” Nicky mumbled. “About what happened. And just so you’ll know, it wasn’t Sid’s idea. He didn’t even want any of the money. Me and Doug…we asked him to help us out and…and I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Father Brown nodded. “And if you’re truly repentant, God will forgive you as well.”  

“What about Sid?” Nicky blurted out. “Can’t you forgive him too? He didn’t want to do it.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that what Sid did was wrong,” Brown replied. “But of course he can be forgiven. God forgives everyone who repents. And I believe that Sid has repented.”

“Then how long does he hafta keep doing stuff for you to make up for it?” Nicky asked. “He never gets to do anything with us anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Father Brown asked, his brown crinkling. “Sid did his penance last week.”

“That’s not what he says,” Nicky said. “He said he’s got to keep doing chores all the time and that you keep giving him more stuff to do.”

Father Brown frowned. The needs of his parish had kept him busy this week, but it was also becoming clear that he had neglected Sid as a result. Lessons about the need for penance and God’s directives for a person’s life only gained real meaning within the context of God’s forgiveness and His love for His children.

 It was also starting to dawn on him that the lessons a child needed to learn from the people watching over him were very similar.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” Brown said as he got up on his bicycle. “I’ll have a talk with Sid tonight. And hopefully, things will be back to normal tomorrow.”

Nicky smiled and waved as Brown rode away. He would have to finish taking care of a few minor things in his office before dinner, but after that he would have the rest of the evening free.

Then he could do what he now knew he should have done much sooner.

* * *

 

After working in his office for a couple of hours, Father Brown caught a whiff of what Mrs. McCarthy was making for dinner wafting in from the kitchen. Shepherd’s pie from the smell of it. A smile appeared on his face as he sat his papers aside and got up from the chair. He was certain that Sid would appear any time now as Sid always seemed to show up whenever Mrs. McCarthy made one of her scrumptious pies.

Thus, he was surprised to walk into the kitchen and see no sign of Sid anywhere.

“Mrs. McCarthy, have you seen Sid?” he asked. Mrs. McCarthy turned from the stove and looked around the kitchen.

“Not for a while now,” she said. “Come to think of it, I don’t remember seeing him when I started dinner. I know he’s been here though because he left some of his schoolwork on the table.”

“I see,” Father Brown said, sitting down and picking up the sheets from the table. It was definitely Sid’s handwriting, but it was also even sloppier and more haphazard work than usual. As if he had done it all in a hurry.

“You know who I did see while I was coming back from the grocer?” McCarthy continued. “Martha, our housekeeper. Said she was done for the day and was going out to see a friend of hers. A friend she says. As if everyone didn’t know that she’s been seeing Alfred Bonhelm’s son, William.

Father Brown frowned, a suspicion forming in his mind. “Yes. Martha does seem to have a lot of free time these days.”

“That she does,” McCarthy said with a curt nod. “I’m not surprised that you’ve noticed it. I don’t know how she is getting all her chores done. Perhaps I should take a closer look at her work some time.”

“Perhaps,” Father Brown said. “Or perhaps there is a simpler explanation.”

* * *

 

 Sid sat down onto the floor and surveyed the work he had done thus far.

He knew that he’d be too tired to tackle his lessons after he got this done, so he decided to rush through his homework before starting this chore. Unfortunately, this meant that he had had to work all the way up to dinnertime and would probably have to try to grab some leftovers after he was done.

Still, he was relieved that he was able to get as much done as he did by this point. Almost all of the floor was scrubbed and polished. He just needed to get to the area right in front of the alter and then he’d be done. It had been tiring, tedious work, but at least it was almost done.

Until tomorrow, of course, when there would be even more for him to do.

“Sid?”

Sid gulped. He hadn’t expected the Father to be looking for him in the church. What if Martha had said that he hadn’t been working hard enough or as quickly as he should be? The fact that he wasn’t done with the church yet probably wouldn’t go over well.

Unfortunately, Sid had no time to come up with a reasonable excuse before Father Brown came walking up to him.

“Sid? What are you doing here?” Father Brown asked, crouching down in front of him. “It’s time for dinner.”

“Sorry Father,” Sid said, looking downward. “I’m almost done. It’ll just be a few more minutes and then….”

“Sid, come here.”

Father Brown sat down on the one of the pews and patted the space next to him. Sid shrugged and got up to join him.

“Sid, who asked you to take care of the floors?”

“Um…Martha,” Sid mumbled as he sat down. “She said you’d asked me to.”

“I see,” Brown said, frowning. “And has she asked you to do other chores like this around the church and presbytery?”

“Some, yes,” Sid shrugged. “Mainly stuff like scrubbing floors and sweeping and things like that.”

“And you didn’t mind doing so many chores every day?”

Sid shrugged again. “It was all right. I should be earning my keep around here, shouldn’t I? And besides…I messed up so I…I….”

“So you thought that you still needed to atone for your transgressions,” Father Brown finished for him. “That’s why you continued to do the work without any complaint or discussion with me.”

“I, I guess so,” Sid replied. “Look, Father, I’m not complaining. I know I need to do stuff and…and you’re busy doing stuff for the church. It’s no bother.”

“But it is a bother if you’re not happy,” Brown countered. “Are you happy with how things are now?”

Sid ducked his head down even more. He wasn’t sure what the Father was asking him or if there was a right answer. Still, after the trouble he had already gotten himself into, Sid figured that he would be better off being honest by this point.

“No,” he mumbled. “I don’t like it. I know I have to do some chores ‘cause you said I needed to help out, but…not all the time. I never get to see my friends anymore and there’s never any time to do anything fun. And um….”

Sid let his words trail off. He didn’t want to admit that another reason why he was unhappy right now was because he didn’t feel comfortable approaching the Father right now about anything. It wasn’t because he disliked or didn’t trust Father Brown anymore, but because he wasn’t sure if they could be friendly with each other anymore. Not the way they used to be.

Father Brown leaned back and placed his hands on his knees. “Sid, I was disappointed with what you did and hope that you won’t do it again,”

“And I won’t, Father. I swear I won’t.”

“I believe you. And I believed you the first time you said it.” Father Brown nodded. “But I also need you to understand what forgiveness actually means.”

“I thought it meant that you’re not mad at someone anymore after they did something bad,” Sid said.

“To some extent yes,” Brown said. “I was upset about what happened, but that passed. Much like how God’s anger passes when people transgress against Him. But forgiveness is more than hurt feelings going away. More than anything else, forgiveness is the willingness to let go. To let go of those bad feelings and to not use the memory of them against the person forgiven in the future.”

Sid tilted his head a bit to the side as he tended to do when working something out. Father Brown paused for a moment to let his words sink in before continuing.

“Sid, I’m sure we’ll both remember what you did, but that doesn’t mean that I will still be upset every time I think of it. Nor should you continue to feel badly. That is the essential core of forgiveness. Do you understand?”

“I guess so,” Sid replied. “Does that mean we…?”

Sid stopped himself before he could finish. He wanted to ask if it meant that the two of them could still be friends, but he was still unsure if it would be wise to ask a question like that. Thankfully, Father Brown responded by smiling at him, as if he had guessed what Sid hadn’t said.

“Of course we’re still friends,” he said. “You did a bad thing, but that doesn’t mean I think any less of you. In fact, I have something for you here in my pocket.”

The Father reached into the right pocket of his cassock and pulled out a tiny paper bag. Sid took it and was surprised to see a handful of all-sorts inside. He looked up at Brown with a question in his expression.

“Mrs. McCarthy has made some yummy shepherd’s pie for us,” Brown said. “Which I’m sure you’ll have plenty of room for.”

Sid grinned and pulled out several all-sorts, popping them into his mouth. It only took him about a minute to devour all the candy, although as soon as he did, he felt a little twist of guilt. Father Brown was always doing nice things for him, even when he hadn’t behaved as well as he knew he should. Sometimes, Sid wondered if the Father knew how grateful he was for his friendship.

However, the congenial smile on Father Brown’s face along with the meaning behind his words were enough to finally banish the anxiety and guilt he had been burdened with. Instead, Sid felt determined to continue to try to prove that the Father’s trust in him was misplaced.

“Now, I think we should head back into the presbytery before dinner gets cold,” Father Brown said, rising to his feet. “Oh and Sid.”

“Yeah?”

“You did do a wonderful job on these floors,” Father Brown said. “I’m proud of how hard you’ve worked around here recently. I promise you though, that your responsibilities to me and to the church are reverting back to what they used to be from now on.”

Sid smiled again as he picked up his cleaning supplies and followed Father Brown back to the presbytery. He was relieved that things were going back to normal and that he was finally going to get a break.

Even more importantly though, he thankful to discover that there were some things that hadn’t changed at all.


	8. Finding Pearls, part one

“I think you can appreciate why we are concerned, Father Brown. This situation simply cannot be allowed to continue.”

Father Brown nodded, making sure to keep his expression open and friendly despite the frown that was creeping into the corners of his mouth. It was nearing the end of the school year before the winter holiday break. Father Brown had expected the year to pass by without any complications until he had gotten a letter from Sid’s teacher in the mail.

One of the first things Brown had done when Sid arrived was enroll him at the local primary school in Kembleford. At first, the transition had seemed to go well. From what he could tell, Sid was not behind his classmates in his studies and had been able to keep up with the pace of learning in his new school.

According to his teacher, Miss Andrews, however, that had changed over time.

“He sits at that desk in the corner and does not listen,” Andrews continued. “He turns in assignments that are sloppy in execution and full of errors. That is, if he turns them in at all. He is often tardy and has even missed his classes entirely on a couple of occasions. It is clear that he is doing the bare minimum to pass.”

“I see,” Father Brown said. “And how long has he been struggling?”

“I’d say he stopped showing any interest in his studies after the first month of this school year,” Andrews answered. “I suppose I could have overlooked the problem if I was certain that he could meet the basic requirements of his academic level until he was no longer compelled to attend school. The situation has changed, however, in the last month as the number of his absences has increased. That cannot be tolerated.”

“I understand,” Brown said. “Perhaps if you could tell me the areas where Sid appears to be having the most trouble, I could work with him to….”

“Father, please understand that I mean no disrespect,” Andrews interrupted. “But I wouldn’t want you to waste your valuable time. Time that could be better spent doing God’s work and tending to your duties in the church.”

“The education of children is never a waste of time,” Father Brown countered. “It is an important part of the church’s ministry to a parish.”

“Forgive me, Father,” Andrews said. “But what can the church offer that the classroom cannot?”

“Reason, Miss Andrews, is the cornerstone of theology,” Brown replied. “Reason is what enables us to understand God’s word and His purpose for our lives. And I am certain that giving Sid some additional instruction in reason will help him improve in his academic pursuits.”

“If I may say so, Father, I have seen plenty of boys like Mr. Carter come through my classroom,” Andrews replied. “The fact is, your seminary studies might have been thorough and vigorous, but I doubt they will be little use in this situation. My experience has taught me that it’s best to simply hurry children like Mr. Carter through their schooling as expediently as possible so they can move on to whatever they are best suited for. Working in the fields or the workhouses or some such. The lessons that are the most valuable for children like Mr. Carter are the ones that teach him to stay out of trouble.”

“And what if a child struggles in other areas?” Father Brown asked, his patience beginning to wear thin. “Such as reading or arithmetic? Or what if they simply need instruction in how to learn?”

“Well of course we should help the children who actually want to learn and who put forth the effort,” Andrews nodded. “The children who would truly benefit from the extra time and care put into their education. It is foolish, however, to pour all of that energy into children who have little chance of academic advancement due to temperament, intellect or a combination of both.”

Andrews leaned toward Father Brown a slight smile on her face. “It’s a concept that is summed up elegantly in the Bible. I believe the phrase is ‘pearls before swine’. Would you not agree with this idea, Father?”

“I would say that it’s bad practice to take God’s Holy Scripture out of context and apply it to daily life,” Father Brown frowned. “A child who needs guidance is hardly the same as an unrepentant sinner. Especially when that child has not been blessed with the advantages that other children have.”

“I have been teaching children for twenty years, Father,” Andrews replied, her tone becoming clipped. “I know a boy who would not succeed no matter how many advantages were heaped upon him when I see one.”

She opened up a file folder and flipped through a couple of papers before fishing out a form and turning it to face Father Brown. “If you could please sign here, Father, as verification that we have had this discussion.”

“Of course,” Father Brown said, picking up a pen lying on the desk. He glanced over the form before scratching his name onto the paper. “Are you thinking of holding Sid back at the end of the school year?”

“That depends on whether or not Mr. Carter corrects his attendance record,” Andrews answered. “If he continues to be truant, I’ll have no choice, but to delay his continuation through his grade levels. If he decides that it’s in his best interest to resume attending classes again…well, his work is adequate enough for him to pass. After all, it’s not as if I can expect any miracles, can I?”

“All things are possible with God’s intervention,” Brown said. “Although, human intervention can also make great things happen when it’s actually applied.” He stood up and grabbed his umbrella from the chair next to him. “Good day, Miss Andrews.”

“Thank you for your time, Father,” Andrews nodded stiffly. “Oh and by the way, my sister’s offer to you still stands. If you ever find yourself in need of a new parish secretary….”

“Mrs. McCarty has done an excellent job keeping things in order,” Father Brown replied. “So I’m not sure what I would do with a second parish secretary.”

“I see,” Andrews said. “Well, if the need ever arises, I am sure that she will be happy to step in.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Brown said. “And please give my regards to your sister on her engagement. I’m sure she will make Willard Steele very happy.”

She nodded at him again as he put on his hat and walked out the door.

* * *

 

An hour later, Sid walked into the presbytery through the door near the kitchen. As he strolled in, he blinked in surprise at the sight of Father Brown sitting at the table waiting for him.

“Father,” he nodded. His eyes drifted to a plate that had some slices of Mrs. McCarthy’s lemon drizzle cake on it.

“Sid,” Father Brown said, taking a sip from his tea cup. “Would you like to join me for some tea?”

Sid nodded again and sat down next to Brown as he poured Sid a cup. Then, with a knowing smile, he placed the cup in front of Sid while also moving the plate a little closer to him. Sid grinned at him and grabbed a slice, wolfing it down in seconds.

“I had a talk with Miss Andrews today,” Father Brown said before taking another sip. He heard Sid sigh and slurp some tea from his cup. “She’s concerned about your not attending school.”

“Yeah, I bet she is,” Sid grumbled. He heaved another sigh and shook his head. “Sorry Father.”

“Sid, I’m not concerned about your attendance just for its own sake,” Brown said. “After the meeting I had today, I can understand the appeal skipping classes might have for you.”

Sid chuckled and Father Brown was pleased to see the smile on his face. “However, if you are struggling, I would like to help you if I can. Education is important for many pursuits in life and I don’t want your options for your future to be limited.”

“Aw, but Father….” Sid blew out a sigh from pursed lips and fell back against his chair. “What’s the point?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sure she told you,” Sid said, throwing up his hands in frustration. “I’m no good at school. I don’t get it half the time and, and I’m not even interested in any of it anyway.”

“What are you interested in?” Father Brown asked him.

“I don’t know,” Sid sighed again. “Um, actually doing things. Things with my hands. Things where I can go out and get something done and not just sit behind a desk.”

“I see,” Father Brown nodded. “And I’m not surprised.”

Sid’s mouth dropped open slightly and he stared at the Father. It was clear that, whatever Sid had expected him to say, it definitely wasn’t that.

“Sid, I have noticed that you are quite clever with your hands,” Brown continued. “Although not always in ways that are admirable. Such as that incident with Mr. Taylor’s fruit stand.”

Sid coughed and flicked his eyes away, but Father Brown merely smiled. “However, I am certain that your talents could be put to good use in a variety of vocations. Carpentry, plumbing or electrical work, machinist…all sorts of jobs where you could be crafting things and accomplishing things out in the world rather than centering your life around more academic pursuits.”

“Right,” Sid said, slapping his palms onto the table. “You’re right, Father. I could do that. I could do any of that. So I’ll just give school a miss and….”

“No Sid,” Father Brown interrupted. “You will continue in school until you are at least fifteen as is required legally. After that, we can discuss any future education plans.”

“But why?” Sid said, slumping down in his chair. “You just said I could do handyman work or maybe something with cars or, or something else like that. Why do I have to go to school? I don’t learn anything.”

“Well, to start with, as your guardian, I’m obligated to make sure you get an education of some sort,” Brown replied. “I can’t afford to send you to private school, and I don’t think an apprenticeship as your sole means of education is the way for you to go either.”

Sid pouted and slid down even further in his chair. Father Brown could understand how someone who didn’t know Sid very well could see his body language as that of defiance and laziness. However, he had the benefit of knowing Sid much better than that.

“Sid, Miss Andrews may be an instructor by profession, but that doesn’t mean that she always acts like a teacher,” he said. “If she did, she would realize how bright and resourceful you are.”

Sid snorted and shook his head. Father Brown turned in his chair so he could face him.

“A lack of discipline doesn’t always equal a lack of intelligence,” he insisted. “And I believe that some additional discipline is all that is needed here.”

“Oh sure,” Sid grumbled. “’Cause I don’t have enough rulers smacking my hand.”

“Discipline is also not always punishment either,” Brown added with a frown. “Sid, whatever you decide to do with your life, it’s important that you have the means to be able to think, to be able to reason, for yourself. Not just to protect yourself from being taken advantage of, but also so you can make the best choices in life. So you can make informed decisions. Reason, Sid, is so very important. It conquers fear and squashes ignorance. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Sid said. “But I don’t see how I’d learn any of that in Miss Andrews’ class.”

“Well your education can start there,” Father Brown replied. “And I can help you further it.”

“You mean…you’d be teaching me?” Sid asked, bemused.

“Of course,” Brown said. “Two of the central foundations within the church are reason and learning. They were also a vital part of my seminary training. And I am certain that you gain something from training in reason and logical thinking.”

“Are you sure?” Sid frowned, turning his face away. “’M not as smart as you are.”

“Sid, all I have are the benefits that come from years of experience and education,” Father Brown responded. “And I know that you have plenty of potential to learn. All I am asking is that you put forth the effort to learn what I will try to teach you.”

Sid looked down at the tablecloth while tapping his fingers along the rim of his tea cup. He could tell that Sid was thinking this over and hoped that Andrews hadn’t harmed his confidence in his own intelligence too much.

He was soon relieved when he caught a glimpse of a familiar twinkle in Sid’s eyes. It was a look Sid always got when he had been given a challenge and was determined to meet it.

“Deal Father,” he said, spitting into the palm of his hand. Father Brown grinned at him and spit into his own palm before shaking Sid’s hand.

“Now, we should probably finish up our tea before Mrs. M gets here,” Brown said, taking a hurried sip from his cup.

“Why? What if she wants to join us?”

“Well, I did say something to her last week about ensuring that you wouldn’t eat too many desserts before dinner time.”

“What? This?” Sid said, grabbing another piece of cake. “This isn’t a dessert. It’s a snack. That’s different.”

“I’m not so sure she’ll make that distinction.”

Sid thought about this for a second before nodding in agreement. “Right. Better get rid of all of it then so she won’t find out.”

Sid stuffed the entire slice of cake into his mouth and chewed vigorously. Father Brown sighed. That wasn’t quite what he had had in mind, but then again, there wasn’t that much of the cake left anyway. And at that moment, it did look very inviting.

Father Brown took a slice and reminded himself that Mrs. McCarthy would never enjoy seeing any of her baked goods go to waste.

 


End file.
